


Commemorative Photo

by Icetokki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icetokki/pseuds/Icetokki
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri discuss the commemorative photo from the Sochi GPF.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a headcanon I have about the photo at the Sochi GPF. I'm aware that it doesn't fit perfectly with what he says in canon, so please forgive me.

“You owe me a photo.” Viktor murmured as he intertwined his fingers with Yuuri’s.

“I think you have plenty of photos of me.” Yuuri scoffed as he reached for Viktor’s phone. Viktor keeps his photos organized meticulously. He has a whole album dedicated to Yuuri, which Yuuri likes to check every so often to at least make a token protest at the terrible photos Viktor loves. “What is this?” He pointed at the newest photo. Viktor had obviously taken it the day before at dinner. Yuuri’s lips were pursed as he slurped ramen, one noodle was stuck to his chin and his glasses were both fogged up and splattered with broth. “Why? Why do you take these photos?” He wailed.

Viktor snatched his phone back before Yuuri could try to delete the photo. “I love it! Look how cute you are, my love!” He cooed at the photo. “You’re so cute when you eat.”

“Will you please delete it?”

“No.” Yuuri sighed.

Viktor shifted on the sofa to put his head in Yuuri’s lap, still holding his hand but now resting it on his chest. He played with the ring on Yuuri’s finger absently. Yuuri’s free hand strayed to Viktor’s hair, making him pout a little and Yuuri chuckle. “I want a photo of you in your Team Japan jacket.”

“I know you have photos of that already.”

“I’ll need to be in my Olympic team jacket.” Viktor continued, ignoring Yuuri. “When do you think we can go to Sochi?” He asked twisting to see Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri blinked in surprise, “Sochi? Why are we going to Sochi?”

“So I can relive being rejected twice by the love of my life.” Viktor replied dryly.

Yuuri’s face turned scarlet and he tried to hide behind his hand, just one as Viktor wouldn’t relinquish the other. “What else did I do? You said you told me everything already!”

“I’m pretty sure you were sober this time, love. If not, that’s quite poor form during a competition.” Viktor mused tapping his lips with his index finger. “After the medal ceremony, I asked you for a photo. You didn’t even reply, just walked away. Have you forgotten everything about me? You’re really not a very good fan.” He kissed Yuuri’s ring gently so he’d know it was just a joke. Yuuri didn’t respond. Viktor sat up and turned to see Yuuri had frozen and was staring at the TV. “Yuuri?” Viktor asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure if this was a moment where he just needed to be there quietly next to Yuuri until he was ready to talk again. He sat back and waited. Yuuri hadn’t let go of his hand so he just held it in his lap.

“You wanted a photo with me?” Yuuri asked, breaking the silence much faster than Viktor had been expecting. Yuuri turned to his fiancé and focused on their joined hands rather than his face. “I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

Viktor frowned, “Why wouldn’t I know who you were? I had just skated against you…there were only six of us, I’m not that forgetful.”

“I was so bad.” Yuuri whispered still not looking at Viktor.

Viktor understood. He raised Yuuri’s hand and placed it in his hair. A gesture they had long ago adopted whenever ‘Viktor Nikiforov, skating’s living legend’ was coming between them. A gesture that grounded both of them in just being ‘Viktor and Yuuri’. They needed it less now, compared to when Viktor was first coaching Yuuri and competing against him, but every now and again that distance between them would open up.

Yuuri smiled and it was radiant. “Your hair isn’t getting thinner. You just have a massive forehead, Vitya.” The smile, the teasing and the nickname meant his Yuuri was back.

“You thought that ‘Viktor Nikiforov, skating’s living legend’ hadn’t noticed your existence, didn’t you?” Viktor asked gently. Yuuri nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Silly rabbit.” He murmured fondly. “‘Viktor Nikiforov, skating’s living legend,’ always researches his competition before a meet. He became a living legend by always knowing his abilities and the abilities of those around him.”

Yuuri knew this, they’ve done this together; but he had never connected it to himself. “So what…” He hesitated, “What did ‘Viktor Nikiforov, skating’s living legend’ think of ‘Katsuki Yuuri, dime a dozen skater from Japan’?”

Viktor scowled at the epithet Yuuri had given himself. “He thought…” He shook his head, “Please don’t make me speak in third person anymore.” Yuuri giggled. “I thought that _Japan’s top skater_ had incredible step sequences.” He paused, “I thought: ‘I can beat him on the jumps but his step sequences and spins are so beautiful that he remains a real threat.’”

Yuuri was stunned, “You thought I was a threat?”

“Not to me. To Chris, obviously.”

“VIKTOR!”

“I’m joking! Of course I thought you were a threat. The only way I’m ever guaranteed a gold is to compete by myself.” He took Yuuri’s hand in his own. “I knew who you were, Katsuki Yuuri. I knew who your coach was, what your strengths and weaknesses were and most importantly that you had a fantastic butt.”

“Viktor.” Yuuri warned.

“As figure skaters, we all have good butts but I would definitely grade yours highest.” Viktor continued unconcerned by Yuuri’s rapidly reddening cheeks. “You really thought I didn’t know who you were?”

Yuuri nodded, focusing once again on their joined hands. “I did so badly.” He ignored Viktor’s huff of protest at this. “I thought that you couldn’t possibly see me as being equal to you. But I guess…I didn’t see myself as being equal to you.” He looked at the ring on his finger and over at it’s match on Viktor’s finger. “It’s funny. I thought I was so bad that you couldn’t see me, when perhaps, you were so good, I couldn’t see you.”

“Until you did.” Viktor replied with a soft smile. “Then your inebriated self disappeared and forgot about me.” All softness was gone from his voice.

“Will you ever get over that? I’ve said I’m sorry.”

“No.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “I pined for you for months while you were off eating katsudon and bathing in the onsen every day. Makkachin and I lay on this very sofa just wasting away waiting for you to call.” Makkachin looked up as if to affirm Viktor’s claims. “Then, out of the blue, you skate my routine, I drop everything to go to you and you locked me out!” Viktor was becoming increasingly hysterical.

Just as Viktor was ranting about Yuuri’s eros of the katsudon, Yuuri quietly murmured, “Vitya.” Viktor paused, “I dedicated a quad flip to you.”

“I…well…that…okay then.” Viktor spluttered.

Yuuri stood, “Coming to bed?” Viktor followed him, quietly marveling at his Yuuri.

 

==============

 

Viktor climbed into bed behind Yuuri and threw his arm over the smaller man’s waist. “Good night, my love.” Yuuri mumbled something incomprehensible. “Yuuri?”

“Mmm.”

“When are we going to Sochi?”

“Viktor…”

“I have photos with everyone but you. It needs to be complete.”

“You have a lot of pictures of me from Sochi.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Go to sleep.”

Viktor kissed the back of Yuuri’s neck gently and closed his eyes. “Yuuri?” Yuuri sighed heavily. “Just so you know, I’m going to touch your butt extra tomorrow.”

“Yurio is coming for dinner tomorrow.”

“Even better.”


End file.
